


And I'll Call You By Mine

by QuenchedG



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, CMBYN - Freeform, Coming of Age, F/M, Gay, Healing, Heartbreak, Inspired by Call Me By Your Name, Italy, M/M, POV Elio Perlman, Sad, Summer Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2020-07-12 05:34:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19941043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuenchedG/pseuds/QuenchedG
Summary: Firstly, thank you for taking the time to read this. I was very inspired by Andre Aciman, the author of the brilliant “Call Me By Your Name”. I am very intrigued by the character Elio Perlman, so I wanted to write a “continuation” of what we were left with. This is not a sequel. Andre Aciman is writing that. Instead, this is Elio’s healing story of how he “gets over heartbreak”, though you may never really get over your first heartbreak. I’m hoping to help anyone cope with their sadness and not feel alone.“We rip out so much of ourselves to be cured of things faster, that we go bankrupt by the age of thirty and have less to offer each time we start with someone new. But to make yourself feel nothing so as not to feel anything - what a waste!”-Mr. Perlman





	1. Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, thank you for taking the time to read this. I was very inspired by Andre Aciman, the author of the brilliant “Call Me By Your Name”. I am very intrigued by the character Elio Perlman, so I wanted to write a “continuation” of what we were left with. This is not a sequel. Andre Aciman is writing that. Instead, this is Elio’s healing story of how he “gets over heartbreak”, though you may never really get over your first heartbreak. I’m hoping to help anyone cope with their sadness and not feel alone.
> 
> “We rip out so much of ourselves to be cured of things faster, that we go bankrupt by the age of thirty and have less to offer each time we start with someone new. But to make yourself feel nothing so as not to feel anything - what a waste!”  
> -Mr. Perlman

The scorching heat of the fire on my face didn’t bother me. My tears flowed down my freckled cheeks like an ice cube cooling me down. I had just got off the phone with him.

“I might be getting married this spring,” he said into the phone.

I was dumbfounded. He never spoke of her and now he’s going to be with her forever. My emotions were a melting pot. Confusion. Broken. Then mourning. And even outrage. I was just starting to get my life back together after he left.

“I remember everything...” he whispered after a long beat.

I don’t remember what I said after that. It was all a blur. Though, it was a familiar feeling I had experienced that day at the Crema train station. I sat down in front of the fireplace.

“I’m a mess.” I thought to myself as I sat down in front of the fireplace.

Tears filled my eyes. My mind raced with thoughts. Flashbacks came flooding of that summer. It seemed like it had happened so long ago almost like a distant memory. I remember singing “Love My Way” in the echoey Cascate del Serio, dancing through the streets in Bergamo, and making love with him for the last time. So much happened that summer. I wonder if I knew it was going to end the way it did, him leaving me at the station. I knew I would have trouble sleeping tonight, and that there would be more sleepless and lonely nights to come.

“Elio…Elio?” my mother called out from behind me.

I sniffled and wiped my tears away as I got up from the floor to help my mother set the table for dinner. I could tell she was concerned as a mother should be. I felt my mother’s eyes on me, so I averted them as she tried to make contact with me.

“Je n’ai pas faim et je suis très fatigue maman.” _I’m not hungry and I’m very tired mom._ I whispered.

“D'accord, bonne nuit mon cherie Elio.” _Okay, goodnight my dear Elio._ She replied.

I trudged up the stairs. I stopped in front of Oliver’s old room. There was hesitation, but I touched the doorknob and entered inside. After Oliver left, I left his room untouched. I didn’t want him to go. Yes, he was already gone but, I felt him there. The ghosts of his past lingered. I stood in the doorway in awe, reminiscing the night we first made love. We woke up the next morning with our legs tangled together like interlocking hands. I sat down on the twin size bed hunching over my back. I looked down next to me on the bed. There laid Oliver’s billowy blue shirt. I placed it next to the pillow and laid down next to it, and I imagined that I was lying next to Oliver. I smiled at the thought and soon fell asleep.


	2. Slow Burn

I woke up the next morning to the sun shining over the nearby frozen lake. The shirt was where I had left it. I picked it up and decided to wear it. I descended down the stairs, greeted my mother and Malfada and then entered my father’s study.  
  
“Good morning Elly-belly. How did you sleep?” he asked, adjusting his Ful Vue glasses to see who entered the room.  
  
“Okay,” I lied.  
  
“Come Elio,” he said motioning me to sit next to him.  
  
“I hope I’m not out of line by asking this, but…are you happy for him?”  
  
I opened my mouth and then closed it. I paused and looked outside. Feathery snowflakes floated down to the ground. A straight line formed on my lips. I brought myself back to reality.  
  
“I’m happy for him. You know he’s with someone better, smarter. Someone he actually loved. It’ll be good for him. He won’t have to deal with me anymore.” I replied, staring at the ground.  
  
“You don’t have to lie to me Elio, I won’t judge you.”  
  
He paused and contemplated his next choice of words.  
  
“You are the most intelligent and talented person I have ever met, you know that? And he loved you Elio. I’m very sure of it. You did your best. You can be there for someone and give your all, but you cannot control what they do with that. There will be someone that will come along and be ready for you.”

I slowly nod to show that I’m listening.

“What if I’m never okay. What if I’m never happy?”  
  
“I’m here for you. We all are. You may not be okay today, or tomorrow, or the day after that. But you will get through this.”

With that, my father lit his cigarette and took a long draw. Then exhaled the smoke. I imagined my love for Oliver was like a cigarette. A slow-burn love. It was calm and tranquil, but even moreso...it was addictive. I remember when Oliver first arrived that summer I didn’t know it myself but I was already infatuated with him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated this for so long! I've been so busy lately and I only wrote when I was inspired and it felt right. And yes, I have been working on this story while I was gone but I didn't feel ready to share. I've gone through more heartbreak since the last time I posted. I understand Elio's situation a little bit more now. Since I've experienced a healing journey of my own, I hope it shows through my writing and that I improve as a writer.


End file.
